


No need to pray, no need to speak

by xiaoeri



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Best Friends, Canon Compliant, Chapter 5 Spoilers, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Sparring, ish?, sylvain is an oblivious idiot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:02:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22310728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xiaoeri/pseuds/xiaoeri
Summary: After the events at The Tower of Black Winds, Sylvain is left licking old wounds left by his brother. Felix attempts to help him through this trying time, but it somehow puts even more of a strain on their already shaky friendship. Sylvain may be dense, but maybe allowing his best friend into his confidences was a mistake? Or maybe, it was the best decision he ever made.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 7
Kudos: 126





	No need to pray, no need to speak

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, I love Sylvix.
> 
> I just wanted to smash their faces together the entire route... so. Here we are. They're both sad, stupid boys.

It was mid-day, possibly. Sylvain had no concept of how long he’d been laying in bed staring at the ceiling. The sun was still out, so that was a good sign at least.

How long was it socially acceptable to mourn the death of a family member, albeit a disinherited one? Was he allowed a further grace period since he had witnessed his brother transform into some kind of twisted, horrible monster? Or was he granted further time because he had been expected to take part in the battle to murder him? He couldn’t be sure. 

During the entire week of lessons, Sylvain did his best to keep up the appearance that everything was fine. He flirted and joked as he normally did. He tried his hardest not to let the darker thoughts on his mind overtake him. 

It didn’t help that everyone was walking on eggshells around him. Dimitri kept trying to cheer him up, which was just as endearing as it was embarrassing. Annette kept giving him these teary-eyed looks every time he caught her eye, which made his stomach twist uncomfortably. He didn’t want to be _pitied._ Even Felix was less of an absolute asshole to him, which was the most disconcerting behaviour from all his friends. 

Sylvain supposed he should be hungry. He couldn’t recall the last time he had a meal, but he couldn’t stomach the idea of going to the mess hall. 

A sharp knock on his door jolted him out of his thoughts.

Automatically he rose out of bed, still in his wrinkled sleep clothes, and shuffled over to the door. Surprisingly, it was Felix on the other side. He wore a concerned frown which was a fair amount different than the usual disapproving frown he gave Sylvain on a daily basis. 

“How are you holding up?” Felix asked without any preamble, as usual, though his voice was uncharacteristically somber.

Just a beat too late, Sylvain realized he had forgotten to speak. It was awkward. He was normally such a chatterbox, it must have been an obvious tell. Watching Felix’s expression shift, Sylvain felt the guilt creeping in. Felix looked… sad. He reached out to touch Sylvain’s arm in commiseration but retreated as he thought better of it. 

The silence stretched on before Felix broke it by speaking again. 

“Let's sit down.” Felix crowded himself up against Sylvain, steering him further into his room and closing the door behind them. Sylvain looked around, feeling like a stranger in his own space. In all their time in the monastery together he could count on one hand how many times Felix had been inside his room.

“Sit,” Felix repeated, reaching up to push down on Sylvain’s shoulders so he would sit on the edge of his bed. Felix dragged a chair over, seating himself across from his friend. 

“Let’s try this again. How are you holding up? And don’t bullshit me and tell me that you’re fine because with one look I can tell that you’re _not_ fine.” Despite his rough words, Felix’s expression was still soft. It had been so many years since Sylvain had seen Felix look like this. It brought back so many memories of when they were younger, when things were less complicated and certainly happier, when life was _easier._

“Talk to me,” Felix urged.

“I don’t know what to say,” Sylvain finally said, looking away from Felix’s concerned expression and down at his hands lying limply in his lap.

“We _killed_ him, Felix. Even if— even if I know we had to, even though we had no other choice, he was still my brother.” Sylvain felt sick again, a wave of nausea swaying the room. Sometimes the reality of their missions was too much to bear. Killing faceless bandits was one thing, killing someone he knew was a completely different story.

Suddenly there were two steadying hands on his shoulders, shattering his painful line of thought. Felix had pushed the chair back to stand over him.

“I know,” Felix said softly and Sylvain lost all the words somewhere in his head. He closed his eyes, leaning forward until face collided with Felix’s chest. It felt so nice, so comforting to be close to another person. He took a deep breath and was surprised by the sob that came out as he tried to let the air out of his lungs.

Felix didn’t cradle his head or pull him closer, but he allowed Sylvain to cry against his chest and coming from Felix that was comfort enough. He gave Sylvain’s shoulders a supportive squeeze that made Sylvain sob harder. He hadn’t cried like this since he was a kid. Maybe it was just too much bottled up, too many years of repression, years of ignoring his own pain, finally pouring out all at once. If anyone was going to see him at his absolute lowest, he was glad it was Felix, at least. 

“You had no choice in the matter. What’s done is done.” 

Sylvain let out a quiet laugh through his tears. Leave it to Felix to be so pragmatic about everything no matter how grim the situation.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” Sylvain couldn’t help but ask. He knew he was tempting fate by questioning it. Felix’s mood was fickle; it didn’t take much for him to go from fairly pleasant to an absolute terror. 

Felix took a step back, putting enough distance between them for Sylvain to lift his head and look up at his friend. His expression was shockingly mild as he squeezed Sylvain’s shoulders again.

“I know what it’s like… to lose a brother,” he replied softly.

“I lost Miklan a long time ago,” Sylvain whispered, more to himself than anything. Felix knew what those words meant, though.

No matter how much he loved and looked up to his older brother, he was met with nothing but disdain and bitterness. It wasn’t his fault. He didn’t ask to be born with a Crest. It wasn’t his choice to disinherit his elder brother. It was his father’s decision and yet Sylvain was the scapegoat for his brother’s hatred and anger. He never really opened up anyone how painful the burden was. How could he? Who would he even tell? Felix knew most of the story, but there were many grim details Sylvain purposefully left out.

Slowly, he raised his arms, wrapping them around the other boy’s middle. He did so cautiously, watching Felix’s face for any sort of discomfort. When he was met with no resistance, he hugged his friend close to him, resting his chin on his sternum with an upturned face.

“Are you quite done crying?” Felix removed one hand from his shoulder to gently wipe a stray tear off of Sylvain’s cheek.

“Yeah. I guess so,” Sylvain admitted sheepishly. He needed to pull himself together. 

Felix withdrew his hands and took a few steps back, leaving Sylvain’s arms empty and he couldn’t help the deep-seated frown that settled on his features. 

“Don’t give me that kicked puppy look,” Felix quipped. “It doesn’t work on me.”

“No,” Sylvain chuckled dejectedly despite himself. “I suppose it wouldn’t. Hey, do you remember that time when we were kids and you begged me to climb that huge tree to pick an apple because you wanted to give it to Glenn?” 

Felix nodded. “You fell out of the tree and broke your leg. I was much smaller back then and you were irritatingly tall and gangly. I had a hard time carrying you back home,” he provided helpfully.

Sylvain smiled at him, thinking about how cute and petite Felix was when he was younger. 

“Our parents were so mad. I thought my father wouldn’t ever let me see you again,” Sylvain admitted, as Felix sat in the vacant chair across from him again. “I cried about it for days. I didn’t care that I was injured, I just kept crying at the thought of not being allowed to see you again. You were my best friend. We were always together. How was I supposed to do anything without you?”

Felix clicked his tongue, crossing his arms over his chest and breaking eye contact to stare pointedly at the floor. If Sylvain didn’t know any better, he would think that Felix was actually embarrassed. He thought it was _adorable_ , if he was being honest with himself.

“I think that was the last time I can recall crying like this…” Sylvain tried to give a wide smile, but it felt weak. “I just really didn’t want to lose you. They caved eventually, though it was probably because they were sick of listening to me cry myself sick over not being able to see you.”

Felix didn’t reply or even look up. He sat very still, brow furrowed like he was internally debating something. After a few minutes of total silence, he stood up, jerking his head toward the door.

“If you’re feeling better now, I should go.” It appeared that his friend had met his limit of comfort-giving for one day, but Sylvain wasn’t quite ready to give up seeing this side of Felix, the softer, meeker side of him he hadn’t seen in years. He didn’t want _this_ Felix to walk out that door, because he knew he would disappear again and be replaced with the steeled, battle-hardened version of Felix he saw on a regular basis nowadays. Not that there was nothing wrong with _that_ Felix either, per se. He just needed his old friend right now.

Desperately, and before Felix could even take a step, Sylvain reached out, wrapping his fingers around Felix’s surprisingly delicate wrist. He barely tightened his grip, but the intensity of the sharp gaze he got in return felt like a knife’s edge against his throat.

“What are you doing?” Felix deadpanned, glancing down to where Sylvain was holding him and then back up to his face.

“Don’t leave.” Sylvain wasn’t above begging, but he knew this method was unlikely to work.

“Sylvain,” Felix warned, clenching his fist in Sylvain’s hold.

“Please, just stay?” He tried again, letting go of Felix in hopes that giving him some space would work in his favour.

Felix breathed out a long sigh, shaking his head and pinning Sylvain with a disapproving look. “Fine, you giant manchild. I’ll stay,” he griped. Despite his harsh words, there wasn’t as much animosity in his tone as there normally would be given the circumstances. He stood awkwardly in the middle of Sylvain’s small room, clearly unsure what to do with himself, his tense posture belaying his discomfort. His eyes moved from the chair he had previously occupied to Sylvain’s bed. 

Watching quietly, Sylvain saw Felix make a decision. He sat primly on the edge of the mattress beside Sylvain. 

“When we were kids, you and Dimitri would fight over who would get to marry Ingrid when we grew up,” Felix recalled, leaning back to lay on the bed with his legs over the side, his hands folded over his stomach. He was trying to steer the conversation back to happier times, for Sylvain’s sake. “It was stupid and she would have punched you both if she found out.”

“It wasn’t fair. I could never beat him at sparring. I told him they would have boring looking babies together since they’re both blondes,” Sylvain chuckled and Felix snorted in response. “And I told Dimitri that it was fine anyway because if I didn’t get to marry Ingrid that meant I was free to marry you instead. You were better at sword fighting than her, so really it was his loss,” Sylvain joked, chancing a glance over to his friend, expecting him to laugh.

Instead, Felix appeared conflicted, turning his head away so Sylvain couldn’t see his expression. It was impossible to tell what he said that set Felix off, but he hoped whatever damage he did to the amiable atmosphere between them was reparable.

“Hey, do you remember the time we accidentally set Dimitri on fire?” Sylvain offered, hoping to recover the previous mood.

“Accidentally?” Felix turned back, giving him a sly grin that had Sylvain relieved and laughing again.

Their storytelling and reminiscing went on like that for hours. Talking about the past so freely with Felix was a fantastic distraction from the terrible thoughts clouding his mind. Eventually, they changed positions so they were both lying comfortably next to one another, lengthwise on the bed. 

Sylvain must have dozed off because another sudden knock awoke him from his sleep. It was dark, but he didn’t want to disturb Felix by lighting a lamp. In his sleep, his friend had rolled over onto his side to face Sylvain. Even in the darkness, Sylvain could see how his hair had come loose from its bun and fell across his perfectly angled cheekbones. Sylvain fought the strongest urge to brush the hair away from his face. Felix would probably cut his hand off for touching his face without permission if he caught him.

“Sylvain?” Ingrid’s voice barely filtered through the wooden door.

Regrettably, he dragged himself out of bed, making for the door. There were no locks on the doors in the monastery, which made for all kinds of awkward situations. He didn’t want to wake Felix, so he slipped carefully out of his room and he closed the door tightly behind him before facing Ingrid.

“I realize it’s early, but I didn't see you out of your room at all yesterday. I wanted to make sure you were alright.” Ingrid was earnest in her concern. It was a comfort that all of his friends were so worried about him. 

Sylvain gave her a lopsided smile and a one-shouldered shrug. “I can't say that I haven’t been better, but I’m doing fine.”

She gave him an appraising look, punctuated by a curt nod. “Can I come in? I would like to talk.” She gestured toward the door and Sylvain bodily blocked the entire frame with his long limbs. He sputtered, giving a nervous laugh, and knew he had failed to hide his panicked expression. Slick… he was real slick.

He had no idea why the thought of Ingrid seeing Felix in his bed felt like she would be intruding on something too private to share, but it did. It wasn’t like anything had happened between them. Sylvain had restraint enough to know that trying literally _anything_ with Felix was a Goddess awful idea. What came as more of a shock to Sylvain was admitting to himself that given the chance, he _would_ kiss Felix. 

Ingrid was giving him a look, slowly narrowing her eyes and fixing Sylvain with a judgmental glare. “There’s someone in there with you, isn’t there?” She hissed, all the concern slipping off her face. “You’re incorrigible, you know that? We were all so worried about you. Felix was beside himself yesterday because he didn't know what to do to help you, and here you are just messing around like you always do. I don’t even know why I’m surprised anymore.” Ingrid looked ready to commit murder, but Sylvain was far too busy having a sudden panic over the revelation of kissing his childhood best friend, the one who was currently sound asleep in his bed.

“He—was he really? He was that worried about me?” Sylvain knew he was focusing on the wrong thing, because if anything, Ingrid looked more annoyed than before. Besides, he _knew_ how much Felix was distressed over the situation. So much so, in fact, that he had come to Sylvain on his own accord to check on him.

“Of course he was! Are you really so dense that you never even noticed how much he cares about you?” 

Oh.

Oh Goddess, he was blushing now, wasn’t he?

“I— “ Sylvain started, but then abruptly stopped. 

“So? Who is she?” Ingrid motioned at the door.

“It’s— not,” he stumbled over his words. “It’s just Felix. He came to see me yesterday and we stayed up late just talking,” Sylvain declared, feeling extremely self-conscious under Ingrid’s discerning stare. “And he’s still asleep. I didn’t want to wake him.” 

“If it’s just Felix, why didn’t you just say so? And why are you acting so strangely about it?” She questioned.

Why was he acting so weird? Because he was currently having an internal crisis over the moral complications of having a crush on his best friend. There was no way he could say that, could he? Not to Ingrid— or to anyone. He wasn’t even fully ready to admit it to himself.

“Can we talk later?” He pleaded, hoping she would take pity on him and leave him to his awkwardness. 

“Fine. You owe me dinner next week.”

Sylvain promised her as she departed, leaving him to suffer alone. If he weren’t dressed only in his sleep clothes, he would have hidden somewhere like a coward until Felix woke up and left his room. Sadly, in his current attire, there was no other option than to return to his room and face his problem head-on. 

Felix was still asleep when he stepped back instead. There was a moderate amount of dawn light coming through the window now, which gave Sylvain a chance to watch as Felix rolled over onto his side.

Sometime in the night, Felix had divested himself of his boots, belts, and vest, leaving him in his now-disheveled white button-down shirt and black slacks. His hair was even more of a mess than before, fanned out across Sylvain’s pillow and against his face. This time, Sylvain did lean down and, ever so carefully, brush the stray dark strands away from his eyes. When had Felix gotten so damn pretty? Without the usual sour expression marring his features, Felix resembled the much younger version of himself that Sylvain so vividly remembered. 

Sure, his jaw was more angular and his nose and chin were sharper, but this Felix, this was the Felix from a few years ago who he missed desperately. The carefree Felix who laughed and smiled openly, who blushed when they teased him, who held his hand when he was sad and hugged him without hesitation when he needed it most.

Lost in thought, Sylvain didn’t realize Felix’s amber eyes were on him until he spoke, breaking him out of his nostalgic reverie. “Sylvain?” Felix called his name with his voice low and raspy with sleep. It was unfairly attractive that he sounded like that.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” Sylvain noticed just a second too late that his hand was currently cupping the side of Felix’s face. 

As incriminating as it was, Felix didn’t move away. Instead, he blinked slowly and his brows dipped together in question. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

There wasn’t a good answer for that question, was there? Not one that didn’t give everything away. 

Felix rolled onto his back, dislodging Sylvain’s hand, much to his disappointment.

“You know what? It doesn’t matter.” Felix’s expression was closed off, even as he raised himself up off the bed. He didn’t give Sylvain a chance to answer before he started gathering his things, redressing with his back turned.

“Thank you for staying with me.” It was all he could think of to say and Felix, stubbornly refusing to turn around, nodded. 

Sylvain watched Felix slide his fingers into his hair, pulling at the long strands and gathering them together. He tied off the ponytail and on the last loop around from his hair tie, he twisted it around his hand, finishing the bun off. Sylvain couldn’t see it, but he knew there were those few stubborn pieces of Felix’s hair in the front that were already coming loose and falling around his face. Sylvain ached to stand up and brush them away from his face. 

“I’ll see you in class,” was the last thing Felix said before he departed, leaving Sylvain alone in his room with his thoughts.

—

Over the next few weeks, Sylvain took the time to observe Felix and try to make sense of his own feelings. During lessons, Felix was attentive while trying to appear aloof and bored, his chin rested on the heel of his palm as he watched their professor explain some complicated battle tactics in detail. Sylvain supposed he should also be paying attention, but instead he couldn’t help but focus on the way Felix scrawled a few words in his notebook when he found something interesting. His brow would raise a bit and he would smirk to himself before writing it down. It was endearing to watch. 

Normally, the two of them sat next to each other during class, but Sylvain kept purposely coming late as an excuse to slip into a seat further away from Felix to watch him. It was probably inappropriate and a little creepy, if he was being honest with himself, but he was doing his best not to get caught. Felix was obviously ignoring his stares because his friend never so much as looked in his direction. 

He should have known that his uncharacteristic behaviour would not go unnoticed. 

When Mercedes cornered him after class one afternoon and asked him to tea, he had no excuses to reject her. Her placid, eternally calm demeanour sometimes made Sylvain a little unnerved. It was like she could see right through him, though she herself was impossible to read.

They took tea together in the garden. The weather was lovely; sunny and mild with a pleasant breeze. Mercedes baked biscuits and a nut loaf to share during their little get together. 

“Thank you for indulging my whims and spending time with me this afternoon,” Mercedes acknowledged graciously. 

“I would be a fool to turn down an invitation to tea from such a beautiful lady.” Sylvain tried his hardest to lay on the charm, but his heart wasn’t in it. Mercedes gave him an even smile in return. 

“No new girlfriends this week, Sylvain?” She asked, her tone soft and unhurried. 

“Ah, you know, no one’s caught my interest, though I’ve had more than enough prospects.” He forced himself to lie, trying to grin his way through it. There were no prospects. Sure, a few girls tried to flirt with him in the hallways, but he sidestepped them pretty easily. He hadn’t even gone into town to try to pick someone up since the horrible business with his brother’s death. There were still times he felt melancholy over the circumstances, but he couldn’t continue blaming his strange behaviour on that for much longer. People would start to get suspicious. Hell, people probably already _were_ suspicious.

Mercedes hummed, casually dropping a cube of sugar into her tea. “Have you and Felix gotten into a fight? I noticed you two haven’t been spending much time together as of late.” Right to the crux of the matter, of course. She kept her eyes lowered, focusing on slowly stirring her cup of tea.

Had they gotten into a fight? No. This wasn’t a fight. This awkward situation between them was all Sylvain’s fault. Well, Felix was partially to blame, for being so handsome and soft that day, inadvertently shaking loose some of Sylvain’s subconscious feelings for him. Regardless, this swung back to being Sylvain’s personal issue. Felix wasn’t actually to blame. Sylvain needed to sort himself out before he could face Felix again.

“No, we— I just needed some space.” That was the truth at least. Weeks worth of space. Sylvain sipped at his tea to give himself something to do. Things were normal during battle or training, but all fraternizing had come to a screeching halt since the night Felix stayed in his room. 

Mercedes regarded him with a warm smile, taking a cookie for herself. 

“Ah, I see.” She nibbled on the cookie primly. “Have you given any thought to his feelings on this space you’re giving him?” It took a moment for what exactly she was asking to sink in. It dawned on Sylvain that no, in fact, he hadn’t. He had no clue what Felix thought about this… 

“If you would like my honest opinion, he’s adept at hiding it, but I would say Felix has been looking rather lonely as of late.” Mercedes’ astute observation made Sylvain feel like a jerk. If he was inadvertently hurting Felix, he couldn’t forgive himself. 

Abruptly, Sylvain stood up, nearly knocking a plate off the table in the process. He managed to catch it, but not without spilling his teacup. Cursing to himself, he tried his best to clean up the mess with his cloth napkin. It was lucky his cup was already mostly empty. 

“I’m sorry,” he blurted out, immediately laughing and trying to play it off. Goddess, he was making an absolute ass of himself. Mercedes blessedly didn’t seem to mind. She was calmly smiling up at him despite his sheer panic. She even offered him her napkin to sop up more of the mess he’d made. 

“I— thank you, Mercedes. The snacks were wonderful.” He tried to be respectful, even with his foot half out the door. “We should do this again sometime.” It was wholly impolite to leave tea so early, but his mind was screaming at him that he needed to find Felix and _make things right._

“Tell Felix I say hello,” Mercedes called after him as he left the garden and Sylvain felt his face flame from her parting words. 

—

Felix was exactly where Sylvain expected him to be, taking out his anger and frustrations in the training grounds. 

Watching from a distance, he saw the sheen of sweat on Felix’s face. He was stripped down to his white shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. It appeared he was running through his rigorous sword work drills. It was admirable, how disciplined Felix was when it came to his work, aside from the time that their professor suggested that he try to focus some of his energy learning magic. He pitched such a fit to Sylvain in private over that; it was actually pretty cute. Felix huffed and stomped his foot childishly about it. In the end, he begrudgingly accepted that their professor was correct and that learning some magic made him a more well-balanced soldier. He also secretly excelled at it. 

Sylvain watched as Felix raised his sword after a short break, continuing on in his practice. They were alone in the room, the rest of their classmates off enjoying the beautiful weather in more pleasurable ways than training. 

It felt shitty to interrupt, but they needed to talk. Now that the thought had wormed into his mind, he knew if he didn’t get what he needed to say off his chest, it would gnaw away at him. Sylvain knew very well he was not a man of great patience.

“Hey,” Sylvain tried casually, settled his weight onto his side, leaning against one of the posts that lined the area. “I like your thrusting.”

The joke was utterly lame, but it made Felix turn toward him and pin him with an unimpressed look that had Sylvain laughing.

Felix’s chest was heaving from exertion and, now that he was closer, Sylvain noticed the first few buttons of his shirt were undone, exposing the elegant hollow of his throat and part of his pale chest. Felix didn’t miss the way Sylvain’s eyes drifted to his exposed skin. His response was to sheath his sword, unroll his sleeves and button his shirt back up. Sylvain felt robbed. 

“So, what do you want?” Felix grumbled, brushing his hair away from his face. Sylvain always wondered why Felix wore his hair long. It would have been far more practical for a swordsman to keep his hair short and out of the way, but that was a question for another day. 

“Can’t a man come to have a conversation with his best friend?” Sylvain wasn’t above pouting, which made Felix scowl even further.

“I’m in the middle of practice,” Felix stated, picking up a training sword and doing one of his show-off moves, twirling it around in his hand before pointing it evenly at Sylvain. “Spar with me.” 

He wasn’t asking, as he picked up a second sword and tossed it to Sylvain, who caught it deftly in mid-air. There would be no winning a practice match against Felix’s skills, but Sylvain kept that to himself, readying his weapon anyway.

“Your stance is sloppy,” Felix complained, shaking his head, disapproving.

“You know I don’t usually favour the sword in battle. Give me a lance if you want a fair fight—” Sylvain was cut off mid-sentence, bringing his sword up to guard against Felix’s sudden attack. He blocked, pushed back and disengaged to get some distance between them. 

Sylvain had the height advantage, but that was about all he had. Felix had him beat on every other front. 

His friend circled him, concentration etched onto his features. A quick step to the left and a dip later, Felix was inside his guard, disarming Sylvain before he had a second to react. The wooden sword made no noise as it fell onto the sawdust beneath their feet. Sylvain’s hand ached from where the hilt of the sword knocked against his knuckles.

Felix stood with his chin held high, regarding Sylvain from down his nose. He held the tip of his practice sword steady against the front of Sylvain’s neck.

“Like I said, sloppy.” Felix’s deep voice was so attractive that Sylvain found his gaze dropping down to Felix’s lips just to watch his mouth form the words.

Felix said something else, but Sylvain was having trouble concentrating, just watching Felix speak instead of actually listening. 

“What?” He said dumbly, earning a huff from his friend while he jerked his head toward the fallen sword. 

“I said, pick it up,” he commanded.

Sylvain did, taking a defensive stance and readying himself for Felix’s next attack. This time he managed to parry, which pleased Felix, who then unleashed some pretty spectacular footwork, followed by a forceful flurry of thrusts. By sheer luck alone, Sylvain managed to keep hold of his weapon, but not without suffering half a dozen knocks of the wooden sword against his legs and arms. Felix wasn’t holding back, of course, hitting Sylvain with the full force of his swings.

Felix gave him no time to recuperate, instantly back and pushing Sylvain to lose his ground. Sylvain reacted on pure instinct alone to block the hits. When Felix broke into his guard again, instead of parrying the hit, Sylvain lunged, hooking one of his ankles around the back of Felix’s knee and yanked his leg back far enough to make Felix lose his balance. 

It happened so quickly, Sylvain didn’t even remember losing hold of his sword, nor did he see himself tumbling forward onto Felix’s body until it was too late. They were both on the ground, Sylvain barely holding himself up over Felix’s body, while the other boy held his sword across Sylvain’s throat.

“Still sloppy,” he quipped.

As Sylvain gained his wits, he expected Felix to be disappointed or angry with him, but he was surprised to see an amused smile on his face.

“I’ll leave the fancy sword work to you. I could never beat you like this, even when we were kids and I was two heads taller than you.” He smiled back, and Felix looked away, his cheeks a tinge of light pink. Sylvain had half a mind to kiss him right then and there. Then again, he also wasn’t interested in getting clocked in the head with a wooden sword if his affections were rebuked.

“I’m sorry, by the way,” was what he settled for.

“Sorry for what?” Felix lowered the sword, pushing Sylvain away enough that he could squirm out from underneath him. He stood, brushing the sawdust from his clothes, and returned the practice swords to their rightful bin.

“For ignoring you these past few weeks. I’ve been a bad friend, I realize.” Sylvain got up as well, watching Felix work. 

“Have you? I hadn’t noticed,” Felix replied casually, keeping his back smartly turned to Sylvain, who sighed. Of course, he was going to make this difficult. Nothing with Felix was easy. 

“Felix, come on.” Sylvain closed the distance between them in just a few strides. He placed a hand on Felix’s waist, attempting to garner his attention. It was the wrong thing to do. Felix turned toward him, slapping Sylvain’s hand away from its position.

Felix’s defensive aura made Sylvain falter. He wanted to reach out again but knew he would likely be rejected. Felix’s entire body language screamed ‘don’t touch me’. Yet, Sylvain’s pure pigheadedness won out in the end and he reached out, this time gently cupping the side of Felix’s face like he had that night in his room. 

It was clearly not what Felix was expecting at all, as he had no immediate reaction to the touch. Goddess, Sylvain really couldn’t get over how unfairly touchable Felix’s skin was. Most ladies would kill to have such soft skin. 

“I’m sorry. Do you forgive me?” He found himself saying, astonished at his own gall for the flirtatious tone of his words. The fact that Felix hadn’t straight up punched him for this was a small victory in and of itself.

“Your charms don’t work on me, Sylvain.” Felix sounded smaller than Sylvain had ever heard before, like he was unsure if he believed his own words. 

“Don’t they?” He said, rubbing his thumb along Felix’s cheek, which was decidedly warm to the touch. It would be so easy to tilt his head upward, lean in, and press his lips to Felix’s pretty, waiting mouth. Sylvain’s eyes again dropped down to Felix’s lips.

“You’re impossible.” Felix turned his face away and out of Sylvain’s hold, breaking the momentary spell. “Fine, I forgive you. Now you can stop attempting to flirt with me? Save it for someone you actually have a chance of bedding.” Felix pulled back completely, shuttering himself again. Sylvain knew he didn’t hide his disappointment. He knew Felix saw it when his frown deepened. 

“I need to bathe. I’ll see you at dinner.” Felix made a quick exit, leaving Sylvain alone in the room. 

—

Everything went to shit pretty quickly. Rumours of the Death Knight were one thing, but Flayn being kidnapped caused much discourse amongst the students and staff. Byleth and the students were tasked with investigating the lead.

During the mission, Sylvain kept getting separated from Felix in the winding hallways and it brought him an undue amount of stress. He knew first hand that Felix was a capable fighter, but that didn’t stop him from feeling anxious over not being able to keep track of him in battle.

When all was said and done, Flayn was saved and they recovered another student who had apparently been taken captive, but there was no clear resolution. The unease stayed in the pit of Sylvain’s stomach and he knew his classmates felt it too.

During their quick debriefing after the mission, Felix stayed unusually close to him, nearly shoulder to shoulder with Sylvain while the others went over what they had just witnessed and tried to make sense of it.

Felix looked drawn, even as Byleth dismissed them and told them to go get some rest. On the way to their rooms, Sylvain stopped Felix. 

“Do you want to stay with me tonight? I could really use some familiar company.” Sylvain offered as unobtrusively as possible. He didn’t want to give Felix the wrong idea, but he knew they both felt unnerved by the day’s events. 

Felix stood very still, clearly thinking it over before giving a curt nod. Sylvain nodded in return and they headed for his room together. 

Much like last time, they laid next to one another on Sylvain’s narrow mattress, touching only because they weren’t afforded the space not to. There was tension there that Sylvain chose to ignore.

“Do you ever get the feeling that something beyond our control is going on here?” Felix wondered aloud. 

It was true. Something felt off recently. Strange events were cropping up with far more frequency than any of them could have predicted. Since their stranger-turned-professor took up the reins of their class, these situations appeared almost monthly. 

“I think it’s best not to dwell on it,” Sylvain offered and Felix grunted.

They lay together in silence. Sylvain reached behind their heads, shuttering the oil lamp and settled back down. Felix drifted off to sleep quickly. He was clearly physically and emotionally drained from the battle, even if he refused to show it. In his sleep, he rolled over onto his side, curling up against Sylvain’s side and cutely burrowed his face into his arm.

Sylvain took a risk, draping an arm around Felix’s waist, pulling him closer. It felt so comforting, having Felix curled up this close to him. At some point in his endless thoughts, Sylvain finally drifted off to sleep.

—

Waking up with Felix in his arms was certainly a situation he could grow used to. He was a solid presence next to Sylvain, warm and languid with sleep. His hair had come loose from its tie again, obscuring his face, half smashed into Sylvain’s pillow.

Sylvain didn’t even realize he was unconsciously running his fingers through Felix’s hair until the other boy cracked an eye open, glaring at Sylvain through his bangs. Sylvain immediately withdrew his hand, settling for regarding Felix instead. 

“Why do you keep giving me that look?” 

“What look?” He asked, nonchalant, trying to play it off.

“Like you want to kiss me,” Felix said quietly, not breaking eye contact, even as he continued on. “You realize I’m not some innocent townsfolk girl you can easily woo with some over the top compliments and your disgustingly fake charming personality. You can’t play your stupid games with me.” 

“I know that,” he answered, letting his eyes wander down to Felix’s parted lips. He couldn’t keep it in any longer, his heart was betraying his mind as he said: “I know— But I still want to kiss you, Felix.” He had wanted to, so badly, for weeks now— probably longer, if he were being honest with himself. 

Ever so gently, Sylvain brushed the back of his knuckles along the other boy’s jawline, ending by swiping his thumb across Felix’s bottom lip and keeping it pressed right in the middle. He barely heard it, but he felt it against his the pad if his thumb, the hitch in Felix’s breath at his words. His heart was beating wildly in his chest, making it hard to think. There was never a time he felt like this before. Felix was right; he was desperate. It felt as if he didn’t kiss him right now, that the opportunity would never arise again. This was his one chance to prove to Felix that he meant more to him than just having someone to comfort him physically.

Sylvain slid his hand down, cupping Felix’s jaw so that he could tilt his head upward. Leaning over, his other arm pressed into the mattress on the opposite side of Felix’s chest so that he could bend over the way he needed to get closer.

He went slowly, giving Felix ample time to protest or push him away. There was a hand against his neck, Felix’s fingers sliding around the back of his head and into his hair, urging him silently forward. 

Sylvain didn’t need to be told twice. It was all the encouragement he needed to close the distance between them. Felix’s lips were surprisingly yielding, given his contrary personality, and his skin was still so soft and warm, where Sylvain touched his face.

He pulled back just enough to give them a moment to breathe, but apparently that was the wrong thing to do. Felix’s grip tightened, his blunt nails scratching at the back of Sylvain’s head and urging him down again for another kiss. He could feel Felix’s other hand curl itself around his thigh, squeezing possessively.

Felix kissed like he fought, eager to the point of aggressive, but with an unfair amount of finesse and strength. Sylvain thought he would have been the obvious choice to take charge, but Felix was the one calling the shots and Sylvain could do nothing but follow his lead.

After they parted for the second time, Sylvain pulled back enough that he could watch Felix blink his eyes open. He licked purposefully at his own bottom lip in a way that had Sylvain swallowing thickly, closely following the movement out of the corner of his eye. There was an innocent-seeming flush to Felix’s pale cheeks, that was in direct contrast to his bold demeanour.

Separating his hands from Sylvain’s hair and leg, Felix scooted over on the bed, giving the other boy room to lay back down next to him. 

Sylvain graciously accepted this invitation, stretching out next to him. To his surprise, Felix curled up next to him, resting his cheek on Sylvain’s upper arm.

“Assuming you want this to happen again, we’re going to have to lay down some ground rules.”

“Ah, such sweet pillow talk,” he joked, earning him an unamused glare from Felix that had him smiling and feeling helplessly charmed.

“I’m serious,” Felix threatened, more annoyed than angry. 

“I know,” he responded. 

“Do you?” Felix asked.

“Yeah, I know you’re serious, I get it.” 

“No.” Felix shook his head, scowling at Sylvain for his lack of understanding. “Do you want this to happen again?”

“Are you asking me if I want to kiss you again?” Sylvain blinked over at Felix, who was definitely unamused.

“Yes, you absolute moron. I don’t know why I’m even bothering to ask, but yes.” Felix rolled his eyes and Sylvain leaned in, pressing a quick peck on his nose, causing Felix to huff indignantly.

“Of course I do, why wouldn’t I?” Sylvain questioned and Felix turned his head, obscuring his expression from Sylvain’s view.

“I thought you might have done this on a whim. You wanted to be comforted and I was conveniently close.” Felix hid it well, but there was trepidation in his voice.

“Hey,” Sylvain quickly sat up, jostling Felix off his arm so that his head fell back against the pillow. Felix glanced up at him and Sylvain felt a sharp pang of pain in his chest at the defensive look on Felix’s face. He really believed that Sylvain would just use him and throw him away. It stung, knowing Felix believed he could be capable of such a cruel act. Sure, he was a terrible flirt and a bit of a heartbreaker, but he would never do that to Felix. He would never do that to someone he cared about. He needed his friend to understand that.

“I— I’m sorry, Felix. I know things between us have been weird lately, but I wouldn’t play with your feelings like that. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

Felix’s eyes were narrowed and his lips pursed. “Wouldn’t you?” He challenged.

“I would _not!_ ” Sylvain felt guilty for raising his voice, but he needed Felix to understand the sincerity of his words.

“If you say so,” he replied dismissively with a shrug and Sylvain growled in frustration.

“Do you really think that little of me? That I would lead you on like that?” He questioned.

“I didn’t think you cared so much about my opinion of you. I didn’t think you cared about anyone’s opinion of you, really, beyond building your reputation as an obnoxious womanizer.”

Sylvain was stunned to silence. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He didn’t know what he’d done to make that kind of lasting impression on Felix. Somewhere along their way to adulthood, Sylvain had fallen out of step with his friend and they never quite synced again. He believed they were currently making headway toward mending their bond, but maybe they had drifted further apart than he originally thought. 

After a long moment, Felix shifted.

“I should go.” He started to climb over Sylvain off the bed. Sylvain couldn’t let Felix leave, not like this. He held tightly onto his waist, strong-arming him back down onto the bed as gently as possible, which wasn’t very easy, as Felix was stubbornly squirming against his hold.

“What are you doing?” Felix pushed at him, but let himself be lead back down to his former position. Sylvain was now hovering above him, peering down at Felix’s unhappy face.

“We’re not done talking and I need you to understand how I feel about you,” Sylvain blurted out, immediately embarrassed by his own words. How exactly _did_ he feel about Felix? How could he possibly explain something he wasn’t even sure of himself? He cared deeply about Felix, that part wasn’t hard to figure out. It was impossible to pinpoint when his feelings for Felix shifted from thinking of him as just his friend into someone he could see himself being romantically interested in. Sylvain admitted to himself years ago that he found both men and women attractive, but he just tended to focus on women, because he seemed to have a knack for impressing them, whereas with men he ended up flustered and tripping over his words. It was unbecoming and made for some very awkward situations, so Sylvain tended to avoid it altogether.

“And?” Felix queried, raising an eyebrow with his fists still clenched in Sylvain’s shirt, ready to shove him away at the drop of a hat.

“I, uh—“ Sylvain faltered, letting his eyes wander back to Felix’s lips, hoping helplessly that he might find some sort of answer there.

Felix scoffed, clearly annoyed at Sylvain’s wishy-washy attitude and tired of waiting for an answer. He used his leverage to tug forcefully on Sylvain’s top and shove him over onto his back, perching himself half on top of Sylvain’s body and pressing his lips incessantly against Sylvain’s. Sylvain let out a squawk of surprise that only egged Felix on further. His grip tightened and he bit down on Sylvain’s bottom lip. It was a lovely kiss, possibly the most enthusiastic one he’d had the pleasure of having in a long time. 

“Idiot.” He felt Felix mumble against his mouth before he finally dislodged himself enough to sit back and look at Sylvain. 

Felix’s long hair was hanging over his face, his eyes half-lidded and kiss-darkened lips parted. Even in the dim lighting, Sylvain could see that his cheeks were flushed. He was the most beautiful thing Sylvain had ever seen. He hadn’t realized that Felix was capable of looking like this, but Goddess was he thankful to bear witness to it.

Felix sat up completely, crossing his legs and running his fingers through his hair to get it out of his face. Sylvain sat up on his elbows to get closer, watching his movements with rapt interest. 

“If we’re going to do this, I don’t care who you flirt with or hit on,” Felix suddenly announced, pinning Sylvain with a pointed glare. “But if you so much as kiss someone else, I will not hesitate to stab you.”

Where was that pretty, delicate boy from two seconds ago? Certainly not here. Here was battle-ready Felix, prepared for decisive action and to negotiate terms. 

“Okay. I think I can manage that at least.” He gave him a dopey smile and Felix scowled down at him. Sylvain somehow found even his bad attitude endearing. He was surely in trouble if he was already this far gone for Felix. Sylvain suspected he had always felt like this but spent years stubbornly avoiding it. There was no escaping it now, not that he had any complaints.

Sure, this arrangement wasn’t perfect and things between them were not exactly settled, but Sylvain assumed they could figure things out as they went. They still had a lot to talk about, but he wasn’t worried. They would make it through, as long as they were together, just like they’d always been.

As Felix’s expression evened out and he gave Sylvain a small, shy smile, Sylvain thought that maybe it really wasn’t so bad— being in love with his best friend. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Find me on twitter at @ulaume if you'd like to scream about FE3H~ 
> 
> Special thanks to my roommate for letting me watch her play the game while screeching about felix and beta-ing for me.


End file.
